A Different Side of Me
by SheherazadeSohma
Summary: “Don’t you think we got a wonderful assignment today, Watanuki-kun?” A seemingly ordinary school assignment causes Watanuki to search for the words for what he can't say aloud. Donuts
1. First Act

**Disclaimer:** I don't own xxxHolic, as only CLAMP can produce such magnificence. I, SheherazadeSohma, just own the story.

**A Different Side of Me**

**First Act**

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"Don't you think we got a wonderful assignment today, Watanuki-kun?" Himawari chirped a few minutes after the last school bell rang. She briskly slipped her books and papers into her briefcase as Tampopo the bird chirped lightly at her shoulder.

Looking up from where he'd been staring dazedly at his desk, Watanuki was tempted to moan out a "Noooooo". But, predictably, the sight of his beloved's beaming face changed his tune to a somewhat cheerful, "Oh, oh, of course, Himawari-chan! It's…spectacular…"

His gaze went back to fixating on the fine grain of his desktop. His stupor was interrupted by a shadow falling on him and long, dark spiral curls entering the corners of his vision.

"What's wrong? You don't like the assignment?"

Watanuki sighed, glancing up at his earthbound angel. "There's nothing wrong with it…it's just that, though this is a simple project, I may end up doing a poor job on it."

"What does a song have to do with homework?"

Watanuki's despondency fled, replaced by a knee-jerk hostility. He swore his hatred and hair-trigger temper would react to that voice even if he went deaf.

"Can't you wait _outside_ like you always do? Even a few more minutes minus your irritating presence would be appreciated!"

Doumeki strode into the classroom, giving no acknowledgment that his bespectacled associate had even opened his mouth. "What's this about songs, Kunogi?"

Himawari brightened again. "Our English teacher decided to have a do a fun project! We're going over poetry originally written in English, and people haven't been too excited about going over rhyme and meter, things like that. So, to liven things up, he's having us pick a song in English that we like, figure out its meter, how it rhymes, any similes or metaphors, and then we get to explain what the song as a whole means. We also have to say if it has any special meaning for us."

Doumeki nodded his understanding, then glanced down at Watanuki's annoyed expression.

"Seems elementary. Why are you griping?"

"I am NOT griping, you twit!" Watanuki heaved in a deep breath to calm down; it wouldn't do to go full-blast into a violent, fog-horn volume rant with Himawari in such close proximity. "I'm just saying that I don't know what song to use. I don't usually have the time to listen to Japanese music, much less _English_, so I don't know where to start. And it's not like I can comb at my leisure, since the assignment is due in two days. With my job and other homework, my time gets eaten up."

"Pick the 'Happy Birthday' song and call it good."

"_You imbecile! What kind of student do you think I am!_ If I pull a random song out of a hat, one that I don't care about, it'll show in my work, and I'll get an awful score! Even a half-wit could figure that out," Watanuki spat.

"Ah…" Doumeki looked thoughtfully at him—not that it changed his trademark deadpan expression much. "You don't want to go half-baked on this."

"Of course not! I mean, come on—if I have the will and stamina to clean the cobweb infested_ lair_ that is Yuuko-san's shop, _and_ maintain it, _and_ maintain the supply of sake and snacks that disappear down her gullet, do you think I could _stand_ to do a crappy assignment? It's nearly impossible for me to do a half-hearted job!"

Doumeki glanced once more at Watanuki.

"I guess you'll fail then."

"SHUT UP, MORON!"

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"Oi."

Watanuki determinedly marched ahead of Doumeki, a death grip on his briefcase.

_I'd fling it at his head, but something tells me he'd dodge, or not even notice anything had hit him, he's that _dense_—_

_"Oi."_

_I won't even deign him with a reply, not unless he says my name. If he has to waste my time with whatever he has to say, the least he could do is properly address me—_

_"Oi!"_

"Hhhk!"

He let out a surprised choke when a force nabbed his collar while he still strode full speed ahead. Watanuki's arms pinwheeled as he stared up at the blue sky. He'd have fallen over completely if not for the hand still gripping his shirt.

"All right?"

"You nearly hung me without a rope, stupid!"

"Sorry."

"The hell you are!" Watanuki straightened and rubbed his abused neck. He was giving Doumeki the evil eye, but of course the idiot was a natural-born repellant of evil spirits and the like. "What is it?"

"A couple things. First, you're supposed to walk _with_ me, not ten feet ahead."

"It was _not_ ten feet, and as long as I'm in your general demon-repelling vicinity, I don't see the problem."

"Secondly,"—Of course the bastard would ignore him.—"why not ask for help finding a song? Maybe Yuuko-san. A point in the right direction. Seems a small thing to ask."

Watanuki stared at him though he'd belted out the entire score of _The Marriage of Figaro._

"_And why in the name of all that's holy and magical would I do that?"_

"Surely you've asked her things before."

"Um, yes, I've _asked_ her things, but not _for _things—at least, for as few things as possible," he corrected.

"I've asked her why it seems that she only cleans her store room once every millennia. I've asked her what she would do if she didn't have me to badger and work to the bone. I've even asked her how the hell Mokona can eat and drink triple its weight without exploding or dying from blood alcohol poisoning," Watanuki ranted. "But I ask her_ for_ as little as possible."

He turned to continue his furious trek to the shop.

"The first time I asked her to grant a wish of mine, I got slapped with indefinite slavery to a crazy-cakes witch who can bend time and space. Can you blame me if don't phrase anything that sounds like a request around her?"

A few seconds passed with no reply, and Watanuki began to wonder if Doumeki was following him.

"There's always _'Mary had a Little Lamb'_, then."

Doumeki cocked his head to the right, not batting an eye at the briefcase that whizzed past his ear.

"_YOU ARROGANT ASS!"_

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"Good afternoon, I'm back!"

Watanuki neatly removed his shoes at the shop's front entrance, mentally bracing himself for another day of _fun and giggles_ with his taskmaster and her diminutive minions.

_Well,_ he corrected himself grudgingly, _I guess that's a bit harsh. There are days where it's actually pretty nice working here. I adore Maru and Moro…when they're not chanting…and Mokona…when it's not chanting…and munching…and guzzling…which is quite a bit of the time. And it's not like it's downright horrible working for Yuuko-san…some of the time…I've learned quite a few things from her. Being her employee can be enlightening, and amazing, and…_

He turned and rose—only to stop halfway when he found his nose five inches from a generous bosom barely covered in green silk.

_…Revealing._

Watanuki jerked back, meeting Yuuko Ichihara's slightly smirking, ever-knowing gaze. As usual, Yuuko was dressed to the nines, regardless or whether anyone came to the shop today or not. An empire-waisted, low cut, flowing dress of dark green was the attire today, decorated with royal blue butterflies flying rampantly across the skirt. A sheer and gauzy dark blue wrap twined through her arms, covering her bare shoulders. Yuuko's incredibly long black hair had somehow been relatively tamed into a fancy updo, with a few long strands left to sway down.

_Huh, it's Pride and Prejudice gone wild. Typical Yuuko-san._

"Welcome back, Watanuki-kun."

_"Welcome back, Watanuki!" _chirped Maru, popping out from behind Yuuko's right.

_"Welcome back, Watanuki!" _chirped Moro, doing likewise from the left.

"Watanuki, Watanuki! Puu puu puu _puu!"_ A ball of black fur with rabbit ears careened around the corner and zoomed straight for the boy, smacking him in the face and dislodging his glasses. "April first has returned, heh heh!"

The pipe fox spirit, Mugetsu, was fast on the dark creature's heels, swiftly wrapping its tiny, serpentine length around Watanuki's neck and kissing his cheek.

Watanuki pried the dark half of the Mokona pair off and tried to straighten his askew spectacles. "Mokona, you little rodent, you nearly smashed my nose in!"

"Mokona is too soft and squishy for that!" The little fuzzball let out a giggle and bounced upon his shoulders and head. "Boing, boing! But if Watanuki is hurt, Mokona can kiss him better! _Mwah mwah mwah!"_

_"Gah, don't, eh—"_ The beleaguered teen tried to fend off the black pork bun and the pipe fox spirit as he turned to Yuuko and the girls. "Hello, Maru, Moro, Yuuko-san. What's the to-do list today?"

"Well…" Yuuko twirled one of her loose locks playfully, her scarlet eyes turning devious. "I think it's time for some spring cleaning!"

"It's _autumn_, Yuuko-san!"

"But that's to be done after you serve a little afternoon repast," she continued, blithely ignoring him. "Don't stint on the sake like you did last time."

"You're not listening! And if I don't _stint_, your liver will give out sooner than later!"

"Oh, liver shmiver."

_"Liver shmiver!"_

_"Liver shmiver!"_

"GAH!"

Even if he were paid, it would never be enough.

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As it turned out, the witch had been teasing—surprise, surprise—about doing a thorough spring cleaning, thus, Watanuki only had to do the standard daily chores the shop required.

However, Yuuko had definitely_ not_ been joking about a sake-filled afternoon snack.

Surprise, surprise.

"I don't compliment you enough on your culinary expertise, Watanuki-kun," Yuuko sighed blissfully. "This sashimi platter is exquisite."

Watanuki couldn't help but let a small grin sneak onto his lips. If there was one good thing he could say about Yuuko, it was that, while she often made strange and impossible demands for food (reminiscent of a certain stoic blockhead he knew), she was never unappreciative of his cooking.

"Thank you, Yuuko-san." He went over to where his employer reclined leisurely on a divan. She had let down her hair, and was now clad in a purple yukata patterned with crescent moons and starbursts in silver thread—when Yuuko Ichihara lounged, she lounged in _style._

"More sake?"

"Of course." Yuuko eyed Watanuki archly. "I hope you realize I can easily tell you've watered it down."

Her vassal huffed, refusing to feel ashamed. "We're running low on _eki-kyabe_ to remedy a hangover, so it's best you don't go hard on the liquor."

Yuuko smiled gently as she lifted her cup. "When you're not flailing your arms like noodles and shrieking like a banshee, you're actually quite sweet and solicitous, Kimihiro Watanuki."

The boy blushed. "Ah, please, Yuuko-san…"

"You're actually very sweet-tempered with quite a few people," she went on, "including Himawari-chan, the Zashiki-Warashi, and Kohane Tsuyuri, etcetera." Yuuko cocked her head to the side, staring up at her bashful servant.

"I wonder why that gentleness vanishes in Doumeki-kun's presence."

Watanuki's eyes turned dark in a flash. "There are _numerous and uncountable_ reasons why I detest that guy!"

"It's puzzling though," Yuuko protested. "Mugetsu protects you, but I had to send you to the pure waters of Reisan to change him back to his small form. The Zashiki-Warashi tried to rescue your lost right eye and failed—you had to go save her. The little girl of the hydrangea was completely dependent on you for rescue. Kohane-chan was saved from her mother's violence when you intervened and took the blows for her. And Himawari-chan…"

Yuuko's gaze darkened. "She offers you smiles and friendship, but an association with her has lead to near-lethal consequences, as we have seen."

"What does this have to do with anything?"

"Though it's not their fault, these people you've held dear have done relatively little for you in comparison to Doumeki-kun. In fact, there have been times where your friendship with them has lead to disaster, and Doumeki helped you. The little kitsune's plea for your life at the Demon Parade was heard because he had the broken end of_ Doumeki's_ arrow. You were able to save the little girl and yourself because _Doumeki-kun_ held onto the ribbon for hours in the rain. _Doumeki _gave you half his right eye. _Doumeki _shot an arrow through the mother spirit you cared for—he didn't want to lose you, even though he knew he might _still_ lose you.

"Doumeki-kun has saved your skin many times with his bow and arrow, with his swiftness, with his mere presence—and yet, you scorn him like the plague."

Watanuki's head was bowed, blocking whatever his expression was.

"…Your point?"

He heard Yuuko shift, propping herself up on the divan. Her long, sleek arm rose. Pale, spindly fingers found his chin, gently forced his gaze to meet the witch's.

"You have some soul-searching to do, Kimihiro Watanuki."

It took enormous willpower to keep his limbs locked, to not swat Yuuko's touch away and rush out of the room. Whatever she was trying to say was making him unbelievably panicked, setting off sirens in his head and a thrill up his spine.

"You've become a master at deceiving yourself—I don't think I've met another person so full of stubbornness and naïveté in a matter like this. Your fear, obstinacy, and confusion have turned Doumeki into something he is not, blinded you to what he is, and prevented you from realizing what your feelings truly are. They have even caused you to show only the roughest side of yourself to him, when he deserves to see the best.

"If you do not get past these self-imposed obstacles, the scarlet ribbon will fray…and break."

Watanuki stared down at her, the 'obstacles'—fear, obstinacy, and confusion—visible on his face. This woman (employer, drunkard, friend, mystery, shadow, illuminator, mother-figure, childlike and worldly, sibyl and sorceress) had stripped him of every defense and pretense in less than three minutes.

"Yuuko…san…"

Her eyebrow arched.

"_I need…to get out of here."_

A small nod, a slow blink of piercing eyes.

"Go."

He flung himself out of the smoky room, ripping off his apron and head kerchief as he sprinted for the front door. When he dove out of the house, he gulped the fresh air, glad to have escaped the shop seeping with smoky incense, the heady scent of liquor, and the aura of magic that clung to the enchantress.

After a few seconds, Watanuki snarled and raced back into the shop.

He had forgotten his shoes and book bag.

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**Sheherazade's Blah Blah Blah**

Thank you for taking the time to read (and hopefully review) the first part of this two part piece! This is my first time posting a xxxHolic fic, so hopefully everyone's in character. I know it's long, but hopefully quality makes up for quantity. I'll post the second half of _Different Side_ in a day or two.

Please review! Reviews always make my day.


	2. Second Act

**Disclaimer:** I don't own xxxHolic, as only CLAMP can produce such magnificence. Neither do I own _Unwell_, by Rob Thomas. I, SheherazadeSohma, only own the story.

**A Different Side of Me**

**Second Act**

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After a sleepless night, Watanuki went through the school day in a fog. It didn't go unnoticed by his two companions. Doumeki was on alert when, on the walk to school, the other boy noticeably flinched when Doumeki happened to step a bit too close. Himawari was worried at his obvious inattention, at how he barely said a word during class or all during lunch, but decided to be silent and leave her friend to his thoughts.

He was so out of it, Watanuki forgot (or perhaps_ purposefully_ forgot?) that Doumeki had archery practice and should have waited for him. Instead, he ended up walking straight home instead of to Yuuko's. Fortunately, when Watanuki arrived at his apartment, he found a letter tacked to his door, a missive from the witch informing him that she was giving him the day off. Normally, he would laugh with glee, then sink into a state of paranoia and suspicion, wondering just how he would be forced to repay her generosity. Now, he barely registered the letter's meaning and entered his home without a second glance.

The song project was due in English tomorrow.

Damn it.

Watanuki slumped down on the floor and rummaged through his school bag, pulling out the cds his English teacher had kindly lent him.

_He was almost out the door, lunchboxes in hand, when a voice called to him._

"_Watanuki-kun?"_

_He turned and saw Sinclair-sensei gesturing for him to step up to his desk. Sinclair-sensei was a spindly, slightly grizzled man with a pair of pince-nez and a slight beard. He had relocated from England years ago, and now taught young Japanese students his native tongue._

"_I hear from Kunogi-chan that you are having a rather frustrating time finding a song?"_

"_Uh, yes, as a matter of fact I am, sensei."_

"_Well, I have a few cds, if you're not too picky." Sinclair-sensei dug out a handful of cds from his desk drawer. "There's nothing too—what's the word?—old-school or uncool from among these."_

_Watanuki summoned a smile. Sinclair-sensei was an endearing fellow, and he had no other ideas for songs._

"_Thank you, Sinclair-sensei."_

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Watanuki had combed through the cds, and finally (to his everlasting surprise) found a song that seemed made for him—and uncomfortably brought to mind his current situation. He could barely focus on finding metaphors, similes, and whatever else it was he was supposed to deduce. Instead he listened to his chosen music on repeat on the little cd player in the corner of his bedroom, lost in his thoughts and Yuuko's words.

"_You've become a master at deceiving yourself…"_

Before yesterday, Watanuki hadn't seriously thought you could deceive yourself. You could ignore something, but to literally hoodwink yourself? But now he had doubts.

_If you were confused,_ he reasoned, _and inexperienced with…certain aspects of human relationships…maybe something that hits most people in the face can just slip by you._

_Yuuko-san said I've turned Doumeki into something he's not. If that's true, that means Doumeki isn't my foe. Being blind to what he truly is…He's my friend?_

But 'foe' implied 'hatred'. And the true opposite of hatred is something more than friendship.

Watanuki sputtered and slammed his forehead onto the table he was working on. He couldn't even utter that embarrassing, horrifying word in his mind!

_But if I really actually_—insert embarrassing, horrifying word—_him, despite him being a _guy_, and a _moron_, and, and..._GAH_, he's just Doumeki! And where does that leave Himawari-chan?_

He adored Himawari Kunogi. He felt so cheerful and content when she was around. His respect and admiration for her only increased after the deadly window incident, when her horrible curse was revealed and she had attempted to cut ties with Watanuki to protect him.

But he never felt peaceful around Shizuka Doumeki. No, Doumeki could arouse violent feelings in him in a heartbeat. One smirk, one patronizing lift of an eyebrow, could send Watanuki into an emotional rage.

Was it because Doumeki could be brusque, insensitive, emotionless? Yes—or at least, it appeared that way to Watanuki. Hell, anyone would flip out at someone who always seemed like they didn't care.

"Doumeki_ shot an arrow through the mother spirit you cared for—he didn't want to lose you, even though he knew he might _still_ lose you."_

But he did care. Every single time Watanuki found a golden hawk's eye flashing at him in the mirror next to his natural blue one, he was confronted with the evidence that Doumeki gave a damn about him.

_I wish he didn't. Then I wouldn't have to feel this way. I wouldn't have to look at myself._

But he had to, or Yuuko's words would come to pass—and when was the last time Yuuko had been wrong?

_"If you do not get past these self-imposed obstacles, the scarlet ribbon will fray…"_

One's red ribbon can be tied to only one other person.

_"…and break."_

But if you tug hard enough, the ribbon unties…or your partner lets go.

Throughout the night, he reasoned and argued aloud and in his head, trying to evade, but always hitting stone walls that forced him to retrace his steps back to the one desire that kept ringing in his head:

**Don't let go.**

Watanuki's mismatched eyes wouldn't close until, just before drifting off, he saw the sky was tinged gold and blood red. He sank into slumber, dreaming of golden hawk eyes and scarlet ribbons.

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He didn't say one solitary syllable to Doumeki on the walk to school. And Doumeki decided not to comment on the weary, dark raccoon circles marking his eyes. Before they separated to head to their respective classrooms, Watanuki hissed, "See if you can sneak out of class towards the end of third period."

Doumeki looked slightly taken aback, but nodded nonetheless.

About fifteen minutes before third period closed, Doumeki's hand climbed the air.

His small, gray-haired teacher's jaw actually dropped. Shizuka Doumeki was going to ask a question? If she didn't make him stand up to recite in class, she would have suspected him a mute.

"I need to use the facilities, sensei."

She didn't think to tell him to wait until class was dismissed, instead stuttering, "O-Oh well, ah, sure. Go ahead!"

She was so startled she neglected to note that when her student left, he turned and walked in the opposite direction of the restrooms.

Doumeki leaned against the wall next to Watanuki and Himawari's classroom. The class was clapping at Himawari's just-finished presentation as she motioned for Watanuki to come and take her place up front.

When Watanuki stood at the head of the class, waiting for Himawari to finish fiddling with the cd player, he glanced out the slightly open doorway. Sure enough, he spied Doumeki's calm face staring back at him, swallowed hard, and nodded shortly.

"Watanuki-kun." Sinclair-sensei motioned at him. "Your lyrics please, and explanatory paper. Underlined the similes and metaphors in _blue_ ink, I trust, and the other notes in green? Excellent. Just pop your song in and relax."

Gray eyes scanned Watanuki's lyrics. "Now what song…? Oh, I haven't heard this one in a while! Class, we will be listening to _Unwell_, by the artist Rob Thomas."

Doumeki fought down any anxiety he might have about just what Watanuki wanted to show him and forced himself to a state of calm. He would find out what his friend was up to soon enough.

Watanuki rested against the chalkboard as the music player whirled, discreetly (he hoped) eyeing the archer at the door.

_All day_

_Staring at the ceiling_

_Making friends with shadows on my wall  
All night  
Hearing voices telling me  
That I should get some sleep  
Because tomorrow might be good for something_

_Hold on  
I'm feeling like I'm headed for a  
Breakdown  
I don't know why  
_

_I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell  
I know, right now you can't tell  
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see  
A different side of me  
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired  
I know, right now you don't care  
But soon enough you're gonna think of me  
And how I used to be...me_

_  
Talking to myself in public  
Dodging glances on the train_  
_I know  
I know they've all been talking 'bout me  
I can hear them whisper  
And it makes me think there must be something wrong  
With me  
Out of all the hours thinking  
Somehow  
I've lost my mind_

_I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell  
I know, right now you can't tell  
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see  
A different side of me  
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired  
I know right now you don't care  
But soon enough you're gonna think of me  
And how I used to be_

_  
I been talking in my sleep  
Pretty soon they'll come to get me  
Yeah, they're taking me away_

_  
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell  
I know, right now you can't tell  
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see  
A different side of me  
I'm not crazy I'm just a little impaired  
I know, right now you don't care  
But soon enough you're gonna think of me  
And how I used to be  
Hey, how I used to be  
How I used to be, yeah  
Well I'm just a little unwell  
How I used to be  
How I used to be_

The music faded off into silence. The only sound left was the click of Watanuki pressing the stop button.

Outside, Doumeki honestly felt a bit dizzy. Midway through the song, he had shifted completely out of Watanuki's line of sight and pressed his forehead against wall next to the door, a rare sign of weakness.

The song fit Watanuki perfectly, and he had wanted Doumeki to hear it. Did he dare try to read between the lines?

"A powerful song, Watanuki-kun," Sinclair-sensei commented softly. "In your opinion, what does the song mean?"

No one would ever know the willpower it took to keep his eyes from sliding to the door. "It's a plea, basically. The person in the song hears…and probably sees…things…but he's not crazy, he's really not. But everyone else _thinks_ he is, so he's an _outcast_, and it's _getting to him, and sometimes he—"_

Watanuki stopped.

Clenched his fists.

He couldn't let his voice run out of control.

"Sometimes he feels he _will_ finally go crazy. Just…_snap._ So he pleads with the people close to him…or maybe it's just one certain person…"

He kept his gaze fixed on a red pushpin on the bulletin board on the back wall. But he still felt hawk eyes drilling holes in the side of his head, and felt his face warm.

"…To stay with him. Even if it means putting up with his bouts of insanity. Because there's so much more to him than what anyone can see."

The teacher smiled gently. "And why did you choose this song? Does it bear any significance to you?"

Watanuki paused.

"Not really," he said. "Just thought it was a good song. Some other people might get it, though."

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The bell rang, students filtered out, and bento boxes were pried open in the bright autumn sun. Only three teens were left inside the building, and one was more than happy to leave the other two to their own devices.

"Watanuki-kun? Do you mind if I take my bento right now? I need to go ask Inoue-sensei a question on our geometry homework."

He pulled out her bento, then paused. "…We had geometry homework?"

"Um, it's extra-credit!" Himawari snatched the food and skipped out the door. "Enjoy your lunch to the fullest, Watanuki-kun!"

Watanuki's eyes took on a knowing look. _She knows something's up._

"Oi."

And there he was, one arm braced against the doorframe.

"The name's not _'Oi'_." He fiddled aimlessly with the two remaining bento boxes.

"That was pretty slick," Doumeki's voice rumbled quietly. A part of him was silently pleased at how Watanuki subtly tensed when he strode into the room, ambling over to him.

"Yes, it was a pretty good presentation," Watanuki replied carelessly as made to glide by the archer, "since I didn't have to talk much."

"No." Doumeki caught his elbow; he dipped his head, spoke next to the smaller teen's ear: "I'm talking about how that was the most private public confession anyone could pull off."

Watanuki trembled as he always did when he was especially pissed. Doumeki braced himself, ready to act like a brick wall once Watanuki snapped and proceeded to pummel him away.

To his everlasting surprise, Watanuki's claw-like hand sunk into his collar and yanked, bringing them nose to nose, heterochromatic glare to hawk-like stare.

"I hope you got the message, dumbass, because I don't care to repeat myself!" he spat. "I refuse to say anything more! Either you accept my overture or reject it!"

Doumeki stared in shock for what felt like a century. Then…his eyes turned soft, his mouth slightly curled.

_Chu._

With a resounding_ bang_ against the tiles, the bento hit the floor.

Watanuki's eyes slid in and out of focus, his glasses smudged and slightly askew.

"Y-y-y-y-_youuuuuu!!"_

He flung himself back, nearly flipping up and over a desk.

"_A_ **verbal **_reply was what I wanted, you lascivious moron!!"_

Doumeki lightly brushed his fingertips across his lips—and grinned.

Oh God.

"I'm not a very verbal person," he said simply. "And I don't mind repeating myself. Come back here and I'll tell you my answer again."

"NO WAY IN HELL!" Watanuki clapped a hand across his mouth and scrambled to get past the hawk that had abruptly turned into a wolf.

The wolf caught him, and after a brief tussle, latched onto his shoulders.

"Kimihiro!"

He froze.

"I accept." Warm arms wrapped around him; gentle breath ruffled his hair. "Idiot, I accept."

Doumeki heard a muffled comment before Watanuki buried his nose at the archer's neck.

"What?"

"…I wanted you to call me Watanuki. I never gave permission to be called _Kimihiro_."

"You can call me Shizuka."

"_It'll be a cold day in hell before I call you Shizuka!"_

_Chu._

"GODAMMIT!"

"You just called me Shizuka, stupid. Besides, I didn't think I'd get a second kiss so soon, but I guess anything can happen."

"I loathe you, you idio—mmmm…."

A warm glow lit up in Doumeki's chest.

_Third time's the charm._

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**Sheherazade's Blah Blah Blah**

Hello! Thanks for reading (and hopefully reviewing) the second act of A Different Side of Me. And thanks so much for all the reviews of the first part! I hope to write more xxxHolic stories since people seem to like my work so far in this category.

I know I said this was a two-shot, but there are a few finishing details that I felt would be more appropriately placed in an epilogue, so that's what I'll work on tomorrow. Please look forward to it.

I hope you enjoyed the second act. Thanks again!


	3. Epilogue

**Disclaimer:** I don't own xxxHolic, as only CLAMP can produce such magnificence. I, SheherazadeSohma, only own the story.

Edit: Forgot to add something in the author's notes; my apologies.

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**A Different Side of Me: Epilogue**

Yuuko beckoned Maru and Moro to step up and place the tea tray on the table before her as she languidly rearranged her kimono, hands smoothing gently over the silver-gray flowers spread across the dark red background.

"Go to the door now, girls. Our guest should be past the front gate by now."

_"Yes mistress," _they chanted in tandem.

Mokona bounced atop the chair directly across from her before doing a tumbling dive onto the table.

_"Roll, roll, roll, roll!"_

The little creature gently bumped into the tea tray, and promptly scarfed down a few cookies with tiny paws and an enormous mouth.

"Do you think it worked, Yuuko? Are April first and Hundred Eyes…?"

"Our guest should inform us shortly, Mokona."

Mokona's ears twitched. "But you know already, don't you Yuuko?"

The witch and her familiar shared a smile.

Not ten seconds later, Maru and Moro barged in, tugging a man insistently behind them by his hands.

_"Sit, sir, sit!"_

It was a comical sight, this tall, spindly man bent nearly in half by the pulling of the much smaller girls. Fully aware of the situation's hilarity, he chuckled and let himself be led to the scent of hot, fresh tea and a witch's heady incense.

"Well, if you insist!" Then gentleman crossed his legs and straightened his suit coat. "Hello, Yuuko-san and a good afternoon."

"And many happy returns, Alistair Michael Sinclair," she answered in flowing English. "Feel free to indulge in the tea—Earl Grey, your preference—" Yuuko crossed her own legs and leaned upon the table, resting her chin on her hand. A languid pose, but her eyes were calculating. "—and let us get down to business."

Alistair smiled. "Watanuki—oh, thank you dears," he directed at the girls as they poured the adults tea and swiftly scurried away, Mokona bouncing behind them. "Watanuki," he continued, switching to English as well, "presented his song project today."

"The song…?"

"_Unwell_, as you predicted."

"The result…?"

He nonchalantly slipped a handkerchief from his pocket and started cleaning his pince-nez. "When the bell rang for lunch I noticed a young man standing outside my classroom."

"Tall, solemn, gold eyes that could drill through diamonds at ten paces?"

"I know it was Shizuka Doumeki," Alistair said with a laugh, "but yes, the description is apt."

"What did Shizuka Doumeki do?" Yuuko queried with a tone that said she already knew—and if she was wrong, there would be hell to pay, and she would collect.

"I'm no voyeur, Miss Yuuko, but…"

_"Yes…?"_

Alistair knew he better get on with it. No use baiting a tigress.

"I left to fetch my lunch from the staff room, then returned to my classroom to eat. When I got back, I caught them in a rather tender embrace." He grinned and slipped the pince-nez back atop his nose. "It was a truly heart-warming sight."

Yuko clapped her hands and giggled in a surprisingly girlish manner. "Our machinations have borne fruit, Alistair! The sweet fruit of romance!" Her giggles eased into a soft, sly cackle. "And _oh_, what a _pricy_ fruit it is."

Her partner in crime winced. "Don't drain them dry, Yuuko, I implore!"

"If 'draining them dry' is what is necessary to make customers pay what is owed," Yuuko said flatly, delicately picking up her teacup, "then that is what must be done. Balance is everything, Alistair.

"You will be relieved to know, though, that my price has, and will continue to be, paid…provided those darling knuckleheads don't make a mess of our arduous, benevolent work."

His eyebrow rose in inquiry.

"I contacted you a few days ago to set up this school project. I knew you would be willing since I knew it was time to collect on an outstanding debt you owed me."

Alistair sighed happily. "My Isadora. If you hadn't helped me, I'd never have won her heart, and I wouldn't be married and content today."

"Now, the contract between us is fulfilled. As for Watanuki and Doumeki, they owe me for giving them the final nudge to take the plunge, a debt they have already partially paid off by (unknowingly) heeding my bidding and accepting their feelings and each other."

"And if things had gone sour? If they had passed their chance? If one refused the other?"

Yuuko scoffed. "I knew it wouldn't go south. It was _hitsuzen_."

"...Ah…_hitsuzen_…" Grey eyes looked at the Dimension Witch over his teacup. "Far be it for me to challenge such a force. But you say it's partially paid off…what must they do to fulfill the rest of their concealed contract?"

Her eyes froze. The normally vibrant ruby in her gaze sharply dulled to a shadowed red-brown.

Besides that, she seemed perfectly composed.

"They must learn to deal with each other—love is not enough if you cannot tolerate your partner's failings and eccentricities. They must be committed to each other—there is a reason your ribbon is tied to a certain person, and you mustn't forsake them."

Yuuko looked out her window. "And they must find happiness. I won't tolerate anything less."

"I thought you didn't do acts of charity, Yuuko," Alistair whispered gently. As though she were a butterfly who would take flight in a flash if too badly agitated.

"I don't."

Her act of generosity was tinged with selfishness, because she wanted them to have what _hitsuzen_ had denied her years ago. The witch couldn't have a happy ending, the only ending she'd wanted…but the prophet and the archer could.

Call it self-torture, call it living vicariously.

Yuuko Ichihara didn't give a damn.

"They both wished for this change, more than they could ever consciously realize. Doumeki simply didn't want to scare Watanuki off, and Watanuki…well, that boy's mind didn't know what he wanted, but his heart and soul knew what they needed—they screamed for it. This subconscious wish-making was sufficient for me to grant them a contract; coupled with my own selfish desires, it was easy enough."

"Can it really be a selfish act, if your primary reason for granting their wish was their happiness, and not first and foremost your own? If you do a good deed and are rewarded with the feeling of happiness from it, is that really so bad?"

"Who's to say their happiness was my primary reason?" Yuko snapped derisively.

Alistair ignored her. "And even if there was some self-fulfillment involved, considering your past, what you were denied…well, it's perfectly understandable."

"It's none of your damn business, Alistair Michael Sinclair."

"It's very much my business, Yuko Ichihara. It wasn't many years ago that you wanted me, even though it would hurt you in the end, because I reminded you of—"

_"Enough!"_

He couldn't find it in him to be offended. Her cry was as pained as it was furious.

She heard the chink of china cup meeting china saucer, heard the creak of the chair as her guest rose and stepped quietly toward her.

"It's true though. You told me once: I look a lot like Clow Reed."

That annoying, ever-smiling, always confounding man. He never failed to rouse her anger—she swore that even if she went deaf, her fury and temper would react to that smooth, knowing voice. Hell, anyone would be driven to murder around someone who always seemed like they knew everything, who was constantly one step ahead.

Someone who could see the bigger picture, and sacrifice personal happiness for the greater good.

Even if that sacrifice involved forcing her to let go of her happiness as well.

"May his soul rot," she whispered, even as she ached for him.

"You don't mean that."

No, she didn't mean that. Without Clow's death, Sakura Kinomoto, his "daughter" of sorts, would not have come to be, which would mean no "grandson" of sorts, resulting in no Kimihiro Watanuki, the closest thing she would ever have to a son, the living image of Clow himself.

It still hurt like hell.

"You'll have your fair share of contentment someday, Yuuko. You may even have it staring you in the face already, with the people around you, people that your Kimihiro have attracted. Because, my lady—" Alistair knelt on one knee, took Yuuko's hand, and kissed it. "—_hitsuzen _took your love away. Thus, _hitsuzen_ owes you a debt that must be repaid somehow. And in all things, there must be balance."

Yuuko stared down at this gallant gentleman, red eyes lit again. Not one tear welled up, but he knew how she felt at such a kind statement.

"We've never discussed this…but your name really isn't Sinclair."

His glasses gleamed in the afternoon light as his mouth curled into a smile. Yuuko was struck with a moment of déjà vu; she had seen that smile before on a strikingly similar face.

"No, it isn't. But it's easier to use Sinclair than the prestigious name my family claims."

"I can't blame you." She fluttered her fingers dismissively. "You may go now; I'm sure Isadora waits for you at home."

"May I come again for tea sometime, Yuuko?"

"Of course, Alistair Michael Reed."

The door slid quietly shut behind him.

She absently rubbed at one eye (Watanuki better enjoy his afternoon off—the place always got _sooo_ dusty when he wasn't around—that was what the witch who never cried told herself) and wondered how best to tease her young vassal when he returned for work. There would be untold fun in letting Watanuki know that she knew about his recent romantic entanglements.

Yuuko sighed, and spent the rest of the afternoon thinking of torn ribbons, _hitsuzen_, and true happiness.

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"I can't believe I let you persuade me to do this."

Thus muttered Watanuki as he stared up at the sun through the branches of the temple's oldest tree, letting the shadows of the fiery leaves wave back and forth across his face, feeling the grass and fallen leaves cushioning his back.

"You didn't protest too much," was Doumeki's placid reply.

"Well, you were coercing me—"

"I was kissing you. Quite sweetly, I might add."

"You were shutting me up," Watanuki commented sardonically.

"That too."

"Idiot."

After coercing/kissing/shutting him up repeatedly, Doumeki dragged Watanuki off the school grounds, leading him to the Doumeki family temple. Before he could fully drag his befuddled head back down to the earth, Watanuki found himself at the very back of the temple grounds, lying underneath an ancient tree, his newfound love embracing and necking with him.

Now, he felt wonderful—sweaty, heated, utterly dizzy and dazed, still trying to catch his breath with crisp autumn air. His glasses had been tossed somewhere to the side, the top few buttons of his uniform undone just as his partner's were. He felt absolutely drunk—off Doumeki's scent, his touch, the soul-soothing assurance that Doumeki was here and all too happy about it—with no fear of a nasty hangover.

"We just skipped half the school day."

Doumeki shifted up on his elbow and loomed over his companion; he slipped his forearm underneath Watanuki's neck, his hand ruffling his lover's hair lazily. "Kunogi will make some sort of excuse for you. Probably that you fell ill, and that I helped you home and stayed to look after you. The teachers know you live alone."

"I'll have to head to Yuuko-san's soon, you know."

"I already heard from her. A note was on my door this morning," the archer muttered, his nose buried in soft dark hair. "She said you had the day off, but I'll need to send a bottle of fine sake with you tomorrow."

He grunted when Watanuki jerked his head up, bopping Doumeki's chin.

_"She knows! Oh GOD…!!"_

"So what?"

_"So what?!"_

Watanuki pounced and pinned Doumeki down, his expression outraged. "That woman is a terror as it is! Now that she knows such a juicy tidbit of information as us being together, she'll never let me here the end of it! I'll have to put up with insinuations and innuendoes galore tomorrow! God, why couldn't she be left in the dark, damn iiiiiiiittt!" he howled, his head flopping down onto Doumeki's chest.

"You're…not ashamed, are you?"

He froze, jerked his head back up.

"No! Never!" Panic spread in his mismatched eyes again, but of a different kind. Pale fingers touched Doumeki's warm tanned cheeks. "You twit, I had to swallow my pride to reach out to you. It's a miracle I woke up and saw that you and me…that we're…"

Red stained his cheeks. He jerked his neck forward, like an awkward young ostrich, and hastily butted his mouth against Doumeki's, still a bit nervous and shy.

"That we're tied, you and I. I'm not about to give you up because people always have opinions. It's just that Yuuko-san…" He slumped completely onto Doumeki, resigned to his fate. "…is Yuuko-san. You get what I'm saying?"

Doumeki smiled and contented himself with reburying his face in his beloved's flyaway hair. "Yes."

"…Hey."

"Yeah?"

"Let's get one thing clear," Watanuki said softly but firmly. "I won't say that"—_terrifying_—"word, that-that 'L' word just yet. To be honest, this is so all so strange and foreign that it scares the hell out of me. But…I _will _say it. When I'm ready, I'll tell you. Don't ever doubt that I'll say it, Shizuka."

Doumeki's heart caught fire and his limbs ached to seize Watanuki, flip him back over, and kiss him back to drunken oblivion. But he settled for tightening his arms around Watanuki and sighing contentedly against the other man's cheek.

"Just stay with me and take your time, Kimihiro."

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**Sheherazade's Blah Blah Blah**

Thank you for taking the time to read the (lengthy) epilogue! We have Yuuko musing, Sinclair-sensei revealing quite a bit of his background, and fluff from our boys.

First off, when Mokona references April first and Hundred Eyes—well, everyone knows Watanuki's name means April first. Doumeki's surname apparently has the kanji for 'hundred eyes' within it.

I honestly didn't expect the teacher to be that critical to the story, but that soon changed. I really didn't intend to create an original character, but I don't think he's a Mary-Sue, so hopefully it's all good.

As I think should be fairly clear from above, Alistair Michael Sinclair is a relative of the magician Clow Reed's through Clow's English blood. He resembles Clow quite a bit; they have similar faces, the same smile, both wear pince-nez, and Alistair's hair resembles Clow's, though it's streaked with gray and white and isn't long enough for a pony-tail. He's tall and thin like Clow (well, like all the Clamp characters) and has some magic in him, since he's quite comfortable around Yuuko and is Alistair Michael _Reed_ after all. To what extent remains to be seen, since I'd like to use him again in future tales. Yuuko helped Alistair get together with his wife Isadora, which Yuuko regrets to an extent; he looks so much like Clow, she kind of wanted him for herself, despite knowing Alistair wasn't in love with her and would only be a hollow replacement. It has been noted that there is quite a resemblance between Clow Reed and the occultist Aleister Crowley (specifically their names); so that's how I got Alistair's name.

I like thinking of Yuuko and Clow Reed as starcrossed lovers. It's canon that they knew each other very well (I think of the Mokona pair as their 'children') and I think it would be an ironic situation: Yuuko the granter of wishes couldn't have her own desires granted.

I hope I was obtuse enough in the paragraph talking about Sakura being Clow's daughter of sorts, etc. For those who don't know, Fujitaka Kinomoto (Sakura's biological father) is a partial reincarnation of Clow Reed. Watanuki's origin has been revealed, but I decided to be vague about it in case people don't want to know just yet. It's clear to everyone, however, that there is a strong connection of some sort between Syaoran and Watanuki.

Thank you very much for reading and reviewing (please please pretty please)! For those of you in the U.S., happy thanksgiving!

P.S. If I were to write a story about how Yuuko helped Alistair, would you read it?


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